Contemplating Loss

It wasn’t until a few years ago that I really began to embrace the mountains again. And I am so grateful, for nature is my undoing and it is my refuge. Nature is my childhood and it is my wildest present. I can only hope that my thirst to be surrounded by silent oneness is never satiated, for in the wild I have grown up.

This process of acceptance that my mother is dying has made me come back to love. Love in the biggest sense possible. Love defined, as Nayyirah Waheed said so eloquently, “like everything I’ve ever lost come back to me.” Because my mother told me, “Be open about what you’re going through so others can support you.” Be open to others, but most importantly, be open to yourself. I hike and go to the wild to process trauma. I go to find presence. And I am so thankful to find beautiful reminders of my mother dearest.

For nature is my mother, present and with me, by myself and she in a different place, but she standing tall in the wildflowers next to me, and she swaying gently in the native grasses. She taught me to embrace the beauty in simple landscape. And in these landscapes I have found peace, gratitude, delight, love, and so much more; as does she. May it be so